A CINDERELLA STORY

My friend Kenny and his family had just returned from Disney World. “I saw a sight I’ll never forget,” he said. “I want you to know about it.”
He and his family were inside Cinderella’s castle. It was packed with kids and parents. Suddenly all the children rushed to one side. Had it been a boat, the castle would have tipped over. Cinderella had entered.
Cinderella. The pristine princess. Kenny said she was perfectly typecast. A gorgeous young girl with each hair in place, flawless skin, and a beaming smile. She stood waist-deep in a garden of kids, each wanting to touch and be touched.
For some reason Kenny turned and looked toward the other side of the castle. It was now vacant except for a boy maybe seven or eight years old. His age was hard to determine because of the disfigurement of his body. Dwarfed in height, face deformed, he stood watching quietly and wistfully, holding the hand of an older brother.
Don’t you know what he wanted? He wanted to be with the children. He longed to be in the middle of the kids reaching for Cinderella, calling her name. But can’t you feel his fear, fear of yet another rejection? Fear of being taunted again, mocked again? Don’t you wish Cinderella would go to him? Guess what? She did!
She noticed the little boy. She immediately began walking in his direction. Politely but firmly inching through the crowd of children, she finally broke free. She walked quickly across the floor, knelt at eye level with the stunned little boy, and placed a kiss on his face.
“I thought you would appreciate the story,” Kenny told me. I did. It reminded me of the one you and I have been studying. The names are different, but isn’t the story almost the same? Rather than a princess of Disney, we’ve been considering the Prince of Peace. Rather than a boy in a castle, we’ve looked at a thief on a cross. In both cases a gift was given. In both cases love was shared. In both cases the lovely one performed a gesture beyond words. But Jesus did more than Cinderella. Oh, so much more.
Cinderella gave only a kiss. When she stood to leave, she took her beauty with her. The boy was still deformed. What if Cinderella had done what Jesus did? What if she’d assumed his state? What if she had somehow given him her beauty and taken on his disfigurement?
That’s what Jesus did. “He took our suffering on him and felt our pain for us.. He was wounded for the wrong we did; he was crushed for the evil we did. The punishment, which made us well, was given to him, and we are healed because of his wounds” (Isa. 53:4-5).
Make no mistake:
Jesus gave more than a kiss–he gave his beauty.
He paid more than a visit–he paid for our mistakes.
He took more than a minute–he took away our sin.
(Max Lucado)